


worth a thousand words

by cherryliqueur



Series: riverdale bingo: summer 2020 [3]
Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Cunnilingus, Exhibitionism, F/M, Fantasizing, Mutual Masturbation, Object Insertion, Sexting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-31
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:15:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26216995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherryliqueur/pseuds/cherryliqueur
Summary: Betty gets a text from Sweet Pea that she's certain was not meant for her.
Relationships: Betty Cooper/Sweet Pea
Series: riverdale bingo: summer 2020 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1898416
Comments: 32
Kudos: 113
Collections: Riverdale Bingo Summer 2020





	worth a thousand words

**Author's Note:**

> I... kind of blew through this one! I've never, ever done a sexting fic before and I just had so much fun with it and wanted to post it right when I finished, so I'm squeezing this in before I leave for work ;)
> 
> -  
> [Riverdale Bingo: Summer 2020](https://cherryliqueurkinks.tumblr.com/post/626854339352428544/%CB%8F%CB%8B-riverdale-bingo-%CB%8E%CB%8A-surprise-i-may-have-been)  
> square: sexting

Seeing his name on her phone should’ve been her first clue that the text had been an accident. Sweet Pea may not be wary of her as he had been when she was still just Jughead’s girlfriend from the Northside, but it’s not as if they’re best friends. Any of the few texts between them had been about the Serpents or even about school, and a few times about Veronica, when the Serpents had been working for La Bonne Nuit - but never for a casual reason this late at night. If there’s an emergency, he would’ve called her.

Then again, maybe not. Now that she and Jughead are broken up, or on a break, or whatever the hell it is they’re doing right now, she’s not quite sure where she stands with Sweet Pea. She’d like to say they’re more than good acquaintances at this point, considering just how much shared trauma they have between them. Tentative friends, perhaps, but certainly nothing that would warrant the kind of text she finds waiting on her phone when she’s stepping out of the shower.

_**Sweet Pea**  
What’re you wearing?_

Betty blinks, eyebrows beginning to furrow in confusion, when it only takes a second later for her to realize what this is, and then she’s fighting off a smirk as she types out a reply. Somehow, she isn’t surprised.

_**Betty**  
Please don’t tell me that actually works on whoever this is meant for._

She sets her phone down with an amused shake of her head, hanging her towel on the rack and pulling on her fluffy robe. She has a tendency to take short but hot, almost scalding showers, which usually means has to step out for a few minutes to let the steam clear, otherwise she’ll only end up sweating through her nighttime routine. Plus, with the house to herself for the night, Betty doesn’t have to be all that conscious about walking around naked under her robe. Not that she thinks Jellybean would even care, nor is she bothered when her mother makes some ridiculous comment about it somehow being inappropriate _in her own house_ , even before someone other than her father and her sister had been living with them _._ But Betty has yet to let FP see her practically naked, and he _won’t_ , if she can help it.

(She doesn’t think she can handle whatever his reaction would be, even if, some tiny part of her is curious.)

A few moments later, Betty is sitting back against the mountain of pillows on her bed, brushing out her damp hair, when her phone chimes with another text.

_**Sweet Pea**  
Shit sorry, wrong person_

_**Sweet Pea**  
And fyi Princess, works every time_

Betty almost laughs. The last thing she should be doing is trying to get answers about this, especially from Sweet Pea, of all people, who could very well turn around and show their texts to Fangs or even Jughead. But then again, Betty has always been curious, and at this point, she has nothing to hide.

_**Betty**  
It’s okay, I figured as much._

_**Betty**  
And I could see it being effective with pictures, but just words? Doubtful._

In an instant, those three little dots pop up. Betty feels herself grinning.

_**Sweet Pea**  
Not sure if this is you asking for a dick pic or you throwing down the gauntlet but either way, you got my attention_

_**Betty**  
DO NOT SEND A DICK PIC!!!_

_**Betty**  
And no, this is not me challenging you to sext me!! Just a statement of opinion!_

_**Sweet Pea**  
Okay, we’ll put a pin in the dick pic because I’m not convinced you don’t want one, but I’m not a douche either so I respect your denial_

_**Betty**  
Thank you?_

_**Sweet Pea**  
But I AM a bit of an asshole so I’m not letting the opinion on sexting go_

_**Sweet Pea**  
If you don’t think it works that means you haven’t sexted with someone who knows how to do it right_

_**Betty**  
I haven’t sexted, period, so by default you do have a point. But I’m greatly skeptical that it’s as effective as everyone makes it seem._

_**Sweet Pea**  
No shit, really? Not even Jones?_

_**Sweet Pea**  
I thought writing to set the mood was like your thing_

_**Sweet Pea**  
Or I guess his thing since you’re not into fiction_

Betty really, really shouldn’t find it a little bit sweet that Sweet Pea would make the distinction, but she can’t quite help herself, either. Because that’s the truth; even though she loves fiction and has always had an appreciation for that kind of narrative, especially when Jughead had asked for her opinion, it’s simply not the kind of writing she wants to work on for herself. Sometimes, she thinks people forget that or don’t find it as impressive, simply because aspiring to become a novelist always seems so much more fanciful and requires more talent with words than becoming a journalist.

_**Betty**  
No, not even with Jughead. _ _And isn’t there someone else you should be texting right now? The intended recipient of your completely original opening line?_

_**Sweet Pea**  
Hey, it’s a classic for a reason_

_**Sweet Pea**  
And nope, you’ve got our full attention now Princess_

_**Sweet Pea**  
To be clear, I mean me and my dick, and it’s still a shame you won’t let me send visual proof of how invested he is in this conversation_

A laugh bursts from Betty’s lips. She knows he’s likely just saying it to tease her or in some ploy to somehow get his way, but her cheeks still flush a little at the thought that he might actually be intrigued by her. That he might be the slightest bit turned on by her right now, just through text.

Not that she’ll admit it to him and prove him right, of course. Then she’d never hear the end of it.

_**Betty**  
No. Pictures. PERIOD._

She almost leaves it at that, but, on an impulse, she continues with:

_**Betty**  
And even if I was into sexting, pictures would feel like you’re cheating or just lazy. Words are powerful things, and anyone who doesn’t want to put their full effort into using them doesn’t deserve my full attention._

_**Betty**  
To be clear, it’s MY full attention. Singular. Because my mind and my body are a package deal._

There’s a long pause where she stares at her reply, beginning to wince as she wonders if it was too much or too harsh. She won’t apologize for her opinion, but it’s not as if Sweet Pea was trying to pick a fight or even teasing her, really. She doesn’t really know what made her want to take it a little further, but she’d had the strangest urge to provoke him, just a tiny bit, and she didn’t think he’d be offended.

Then those three little dots pop back up.

_**Sweet Pea**  
Princess, if you wanted to be properly seduced, all you had to do was say pretty please_

_**Sweet Pea**  
If you wanted me to admit how much I’ve wanted you ever since your Serpent Dance, I would’ve happily told you. I just figured Jones wouldn’t appreciate me telling his girlfriend at the time how much I wanted to lay her on that stage and make her come for everyone to watch_

_**Sweet Pea**  
Because you love that, don’t you? Being watched?_

_**Sweet Pea**  
I already know the truth, and I’ll tell you exactly how I know it, but you have to earn that first_

Betty feels her cheeks flush even warmer at the image that flits through her mind of her on that stage, her legs spread, Sweet Pea moving over her, silhouetted by the blaring stage lights while the crowd -

She presses her knees together, trying to think of a quick, nonchalant retort to fire back, but then he’s typing again:

_**Sweet Pea**  
I know you’re imagining it already, but I also know how much you love your words, so I’ll be sure to use them_

_**Sweet Pea**  
You’d play shy at first, try to hide your moan when I press you up against that tiny little pole to face everyone, but there would be no hiding the pleasure on your face when I run my hands over your soft curves_

_**Sweet Pea**  
When I take my time unlacing you, making you wait for it, making you watch everyone as they watch me pop your perfect tits out of the lace_

_**Sweet Pea**  
They feel so soft and so full in my hands, Princess, and you love how rough my callouses feel against your silky skin, toying with your tight little nipples_

_**Sweet Pea**  
I’m going to take your silence as you getting yourself off and not being able to text with one hand_

A burst of embarrassment washes through her as she realizes her nipples really are tightening against the plush material of her robe, her pussy beginning to throb lightly as she presses her legs together together in vain to ignore the fact that she’s starting to feel wet.

_**Betty**  
Sorry to disappoint, but both hands are unoccupied. A little bored, even._

It’s a weak attempt at acting unaffected at best, even through text, and she can practically picture Sweet Pea grinning smugly at his phone as he reads it, maybe with one of his own hands around his...

Oh god.

_**Sweet Pea**  
Sure. They’re not clutching your phone like a lifeline to keep from touching yourself just because you don’t want to give me the satisfaction, but I’ll happily keep this dirty little secret of yours too, so touch away Princess_

_**Sweet Pea**  
Or don’t, because I know you would clutch that pole the same way, desperate to act unaffected on that stage, when really you need that pole to help you stand because you’re shaking in anticipation_

_**Sweet Pea**  
I tease your nipples and massage your tits until you’re rubbing your ass back against my cock, and you love how hard you make me, how you can almost hear my cock straining against my jeans to be inside your dripping, tight little pussy_

_**Sweet Pea**  
And I know it’s tight and dripping because I’ve shimmied your panties down and I’ve slipped two fingers in with ease with how wet you are, and your walls clamp around me greedily, just barely fitting_

_**Betty**  
Wouldn’t the pole keep everyone from seeing this?_

_**Sweet Pea**  
That’s the point, Princess. That pussy is mine. Open your legs right now and touch yourself and you’ll have all the proof you need_

_**Sweet Pea**  
You can lie to me and to yourself, but I know you’re wet right now_

She is. Oh god, she is, and the same impulsive part of her that wanted to provoke him in the first place also wants to tell him the truth. Wants him to go on. She licks her lips, leaning back a little more against the pillows as, slowly, oh so slowly, she lets her knees fall open. Her robe falls aside, almost entirely baring her, and even though she’s alone in her room, alone in the house, she feels her clit pulse at the thought of someone walking in right now and seeing how slick she is. She slides two fingers through her folds, eyelashes fluttering at how her skin is instantly coated in her wetness.

_**Betty**  
I am wet_

For all her talk of using words, she has the strongest urge to take a picture so he can see it for himself.

_**Sweet Pea**  
Fuck yeah, you are_

_**Sweet Pea**  
Tell me how wet, Princess. Use those words you love so much, paint me a picture. Tell me what your panties look like when they’re all soaked through_

_**Betty**  
I’m not wearing panties. I just got out of the shower when you text me and I’m only in a robe_

_**Betty**  
I should’ve put them on, though, because I think I’m dripping onto my bedspread. I touched myself and my fingers came back slick. It’s almost too much_

_**Sweet Pea**  
No such thing as too much, Princess. Tell me how you taste_

Betty mewls, not even hesitating as she obeys his command, bringing her fingers up to her mouth and slipping them in. It’s an odd taste, not quite as sweet as it’s always described, but not unpleasant, either. Far from it. It tastes exactly what sex smells like, and she sucks it off of her fingertips, mewling again.

_**Betty**  
It tastes musky. I always thought it would taste sweet, but it’s not really_

_**Sweet Pea**  
I beg to differ, I bet you taste like strawberries and I’d lick up every last drop_

_**Sweet Pea**  
In fact, I’m doing that right now as I lay you down on that stage. The Serpents can’t see you that well from this angle, but they can see your tits bounce as you wiggle your pussy against my mouth, and they can see my head between your squirming thighs hiked on my shoulders_

_**Sweet Pea**  
They can see your hands clawing at my hair, trying to bring me where you need me because I keep pulling away_

_**Sweet Pea**  
I lick every inch of you, every. single. inch._

_**Sweet Pea**  
But not your pretty little clit. No, that greedy thing only gets a flick here, a taste there, just long enough for me to feel it throb against my tongue, and then I’d leave it alone and tease your twitching pussy instead_

_**Sweet Pea**  
Your clamping cunt practically drags my tongue in when I take a lick inside, but as much as your body likes to pretend it’s in control, it isn’t_

_**Sweet Pea**  
Can you hear your whines and moans echoing through the bar, Princess? Can you hear how desperate you’re becoming, humping my face? Because everyone else can_

Betty’s own moan sounds wonton and loud, too loud in the quiet of her room, and belatedly, she realizes just how quick and sharp her breaths have become. She’s dripping so much that she has to pull her fingers from her pussy and wipe some of it off on her thigh, and her eyes drift from Sweet Pea’s dirty texts on her screen down to her glistening skin, to her wet pussy, to her throbbing clit. She watches as she touches herself, watches as she easily glides through her sex and swirls her arousal around her clit.

Then her phone chimes in her other hand, again and again, as Sweet Pea continues to text her:

_**Sweet Pea**  
Should I let you come on that stage before I fuck you?_

_**Sweet Pea**  
I bet you’re about to come right now_

_**Sweet Pea**  
If you need some help, I can tell you exactly how hard I am, how pissed off my cock is that I can’t touch it because I’m texting you_

_**Sweet Pea**  
You want me to use words to paint a picture? Then I’ll use them. I’ll tell you how long and thick I am, how my cock is twitching and almost standing at attention as it imagines you on your pink bed in your pink room as you get yourself off to our little fantasy_

_**Sweet Pea**  
My tip is dripping almost as much as your cunt, and if you touch it, you could feel it throbbing, aching to be squeezed_

_**Sweet Pea**  
My cock wants your pussy so bad Princess but at this point, it’s so turned on that it’ll settle for fucking my own fist because it also knows your pussy will have to settle for your fingers instead of being fucked by it _

Betty whimpers, her pussy twitching at his words because he’s right. She aches to be filled, but even if her other hand wasn’t holding onto her phone, her fingers don’t feel like enough when she can picture Sweet Pea’s cock. She’s never once seen it, but she’s seen the bulge in his pants and she knows her imagination isn’t far off when she pictures herself barely getting her hand wrapped around his thickness.

_**Sweet Pea**  
If you’ve got a toy, you better be fucking yourself with it_

_**Sweet Pea**  
Fuck yourself nice and hard because that’s the only way you’ll be somewhat satisfied when you come for me right now_

She mewls, working tighter circles around her clit as her vision starts to grow hazy, as her body starts to squirm. She doesn’t have a toy, not any nearby that she can grab within the next minute before she comes, but as her head rolls to one side, she catches sight of her hairbrush.

No. No, no, no, she can’t, but she can’t stop herself, either.

She moans, dropping her phone and grasping her brush by the bristles. She presses the handle to her twitching entrance, her cheeks growing even hotter in embarrassment, but she’s far too turned on to stop. She’s going to come, and she wants to be filled. She knows she’ll only end up more frustrated if she doesn’t have anything inside her when she comes, and she’s _going to come_ in any second.

“ _Ah!_ ”

It’s clumsy, the way she thrusts it into her, still rubbing at her clit as she writhes atop her bed. The ribbed handle feels odd and just knowing what she’s doing, knowing she’s so desperate that she’s fucking herself with her own brush, has her keening out a moan. It only takes a few thrusts, and then she’s coming, her back arching off of the bed, her fingers rubbing at her clit for as long as she can manage before she’s shuddering from the pleasure.

Vaguely, she’s aware of herself tossing her brush as she rolls onto her side, clutching at her bed as she rides out the waves of her orgasm.

Only inches from her face, her phone chimes with another text:

_**Sweet Pea**  
I could hear you screaming my name, Princess_

_**Sweet Pea**  
But I promise you, that toy doesn’t come close to the real thing_

Betty whimpers, but it’s a few, long moments before she’s able to pick her phone back up, and she doesn’t bother wiping off her fingers of her own slickness before she’s shakily typing out a response.

_**Betty**  
I know because my brush handle isn’t that thick_

_**Sweet Pea**  
FUCK_

_**Sweet Pea**  
You don’t know what the hell you just started, Princess_

Betty licks her lips. She’ll blame her orgasm for this later, but she doesn’t even hesitate to feel around on her bed for her brush, holding the slick handle up against her chest where her nipple is just barely peeking out from behind her robe as she snaps a shot of herself from her lips down, being sure to capture her flushed skin and messy hair and sated smile before she sends him the photo.

_**Betty**  
Oh, I think I do_


End file.
